


A New Life

by L_Orange21



Series: The Start of Something [1]
Category: Formula 1 RPF, GP2 Series RPF
Genre: Drama & Romance, Eventual Fluff, F/M, Internalized Homophobia, Jos Verstappen's A+ Parenting, Light Angst, Lots of drama, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Third Person, Prequel, Self-Acceptance, Self-Discovery, Set in the Past, Slow Burn, Will be rewritten and edited once completed, Work In Progress, looking for feedback, part of a series
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-18 02:35:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28735830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/L_Orange21/pseuds/L_Orange21
Summary: Max and Mary (OC) have been together for years, but a few years ago Mary's family move away to London putting harmful tension on the relationship. Trying to keep it afloat, they set up a torturous routine of Skype calls and frequent flights to see each over as much as possible; however, one day Max receives a call that will change that routine forever.(Set in the final season of GP2)Alternatively, a story of how Max's childhood relationship with Mary tumbles as secrets are revealed and the catalyst of self-discovery Max finds himself apart of changes his life forever.
Relationships: Charles Leclerc/Max Verstappen, Max Verstappen/Original Female Character(s)
Series: The Start of Something [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2050359
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	1. Love: Summer break

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick disclaimer: Despite this being tagged a prequel, I would encourage that you read this first and not in the order of posting as part 2 will have to be changed as I change specific details along the way.
> 
> Every chapter will have at least one tagged song. I'd recommend you listen to them, and especially when I mark them as important as I'm using them as a plot tool to help you get in the heads of characters and occasionally as a foreshadow of the plot. I'm using a wide variety of different artists and songs to try and diversify it for different tastes, but we're starting off with an absolute bop, and I'd say it sets the mood very well.  
> The first chapter's song/songs is: The Louvre by Lorde
> 
> And as an extra song for the first chapter, someone you may not know: Adore You by Jessie Ware <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What you need to know:
> 
> This is set before either Charles or Max make it to F1 as its actually set up for my planned trilogy and this is the story of how they originally got together.
> 
> Mary and Max's relationship will end before anything romantic happens with Charles. Max will not cheat.
> 
> There are lots of OCs in this story, but I promise it doesn't affect who will be in the latter fics/present day fics, OCs are purely used in this to fill gaps or for plot reasons.
> 
> That is essentially it for what you need to know going in, I hope you like it <3

What do you think of when you hear the word love? Do you think of love at first sight? The journey to finding someone? Or perhaps you are someone who doesn't believe in love at all.

To Max, his idea of love was his girlfriend Mary, their life together; the flights they endured, the memories they shared, the calls over Skype but most importantly, the love they had for one another. In just a few moments, after several weeks, Max will see her face again, and they will be the same amusing, happy and devoted couple they always had been. A glimmer would shine in her eye once more as she talked about her family's craziness, and Max would let out a bellow of laughter as his heart swelled inside his chest.

However, meeting his girlfriend wasn't the only thing on his mind. A few months ago, he received a call from his manager; Charles Leclerc was standing in as his teammate for the rest of the season. Tomorrow would be the first time Max has met him since they were kids and as he prodded through the mall, Max had no idea what he should be feeling, conflicted if he should have been brightly smiling at the crowd of apathetic people around him, excited to see his girlfriend, or if he should have been gazing to the floor in dread, wondering how he was going to work with Charles for the rest of the year.

As he looked in the glossy glass of the shops, a groan of disgust escaped his lips, the image a reminder of his state. The first time he had seen Mary in three weeks, yet he looked like he lived in a landfill. Frizzed hair fell over his pimple dominated forehead; eyes reminiscent of a corpse overwhelmed with tiredness and wrinkled with stress; lips disguised in lines of white, tiny crumbs of skin spiked off in all directions. Dry. Reluctant remnants of raised stubble, where he accidentally cut his face with a razor a few weeks ago. The ghosts of pain still lingered. A volcano of blood all over his face triggered at a single touch - burning everywhere. The same feeling he used to get when he thought of Charles as a kid.

Max picked up his pace, revolted at the memory. Finally, a lush aroma of chips, burgers and the bitter tang of vinegar stabbed his tongue like knives. He was here, the place they met all those years ago: McDonald's. He twisted his body through occupied tables when a flash of a voice overpowered every other sound in the mall, his name, called by a longing voice: "Max! He whipped his head around nervous excitement tingled all over his body. The steps between them disappeared beneath him as Max implanted his head straight into the strawberry-scented shoulder. Stood, in an embrace he had wished for weeks; eternalized stress and pain faded away. For now.

"I missed you so much," Max said as he parted out of the hug.

"I missed you too," Mary chuckled. "I've already put in an order - are you fine with eating now?"

"Yeah, that's fine, I'm starving, anyway," Max said, his heart overwhelmed as he hugged her again. They were finally back together, but all that did was remind him of the inevitable when Max would drive to the airport and fly back to Belgium without her, the moment they say goodbye again. If only he could live without responsibilities or his Dad's constant supervision. If it was up to him Mary and he would run away together, live together in their own flat, have normal jobs, and Max could be the boyfriend she deserved, by her side when she needed him, and the pressure from outside absent. But that wasn't the life they had, nor a life they will ever have. Slowly, hand in hand, sharing looks of love, they moved towards the long line a few feet away. A flock of all ages; elders that resembled his grandparents gazed longingly at toddler-sized children; teenagers, a bit younger than Max, messed about in front of a middle-aged, pale woman that scowled at them with hatred burning in her eyes. 

"Order 33!" A voice splurted out from one of the tills, a hazel, grease-stained bag held above her shoulders.

"Ah, that's us!" Mary, full of energy, said next to him. "I got your favourite,"

* * *

"You're only having six nuggies? You're gonna be starving," said Max as he plunged his hands into the burger box.

"I'll have some of yours. You never finish food when we go out, especially when I pay," Mary shrugged, giving him a side-eyed look.

He sipped his drink, making a hum as he swallowed down the liquid offence. "Why are you so sure I won't finish it this time?"

"Trust me you won't," Max teasingly sneered at her as he ate an exaggerated chunk out of his burger.

"So how's Carlin? You haven't talked to me about it," Mary said, and Max thought for a moment if this was the right time to explain every worry that's filled his head for the last few weeks. To let it go, but he was powerless in his feeble attempts to escape the chains of trepidation, left voiceless. Unable to speak, his jaw left dangled open. "That bad? We can talk about it later if you want?" Mary offered, but Max shut his mouth as he put himself back together like a lego set. This was fine - it was going to be fine.

"No. It's alright," Max gulped, a drip of sweat down his forehead, eyes centred on his twitched hands. "You know... you know Charles Leclerc?"

"That's the prick from karting, right?"

Max weakly nodded. "That's a bit far but yeah. He's the one standing in for Isak," He sealed his eyes, insides dressing at the single thought of Charles. "They chose _him."_

"Oh, fuck Max," Mary replied, slouching forwards in the chair. "You've got to do something then. It's not been announced yet, right? That means you can still do something, call them up."

"It's not that simple - it wouldn't go down well," Max shook his head. He's tried intervening with team decisions before, and he's learnt that lesson. Even with Red Bull behind him now, it's not worth the damage to the team if it even worked, that was.

She hesitated for a second. Max could see the gears turning away in her mind, trying to find some sort of magical solution. She wouldn't be able to. Nobody could - Max had already tried everything and failed. "Can-can you really work with him, Maxy?"

"I don't have much of a choice, do I?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo that was the result of my few weeks break. I hope you like this, it's the most effort I've ever put into planning and writing fic and I think/hope it paid off.  
> Honestly, I don't think I've ever been this nervous with putting out writing, so any feedback (no matter how negative) is appreciated. One, in particular I found hard, was writing the dialogue, and especially transitioning from walking to a conversation. So if you could offer some tips, advice, comments, or even kudos to show you liked it, literally anything, I'd be very appreciative <3
> 
> Edit: I've changed the ending of this chapter to add a little more to it and to fix some tense switching - yeah sorry about that 😳


	2. Anxiety: The First Day Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Update!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Hi again. It's me with a late update, I've tried to speed things up with this one.
> 
> So this chapters song was difficult but I had a go - Love by Lana Del Rey. An excellent song and I feel the idea of knowing things will be tough, but having to do it anyway is a good idea and compliments this chapter well.  
> (Well, it did before I edited and changed it)

Jos slowly manoeuvered the car into the narrow spot. Pins and needles replaced the steady rumble that had attacked Max's leg for the last hour. They were here, the Carlin logo and the familiar glass doors that welcomed all that arrived here visible in all their glory. But the clouds also appeared over the factory, the sky that minutes ago was a painting of blue streaks slowly turned into an omnipotent gravel-grey, blocking the sun that had comforted Max's side for most of the journey. Pat. "I hope you brought your coat, Max." his Dad said, retrieving the keys from the ignition.

"It's in the back I think," Max said. He let out an irritated groan as he stretched an arm behind the fabric seat, his now cold hand rustling around the confines of the footwells - and that's when he saw it, in the corner. Tucked away - the fatal piece of evidence, a new car parked in Isak's spot, a ruby RS3, a car that made Max's insides throb. Max's 'realistic' dream car tucked away in the corner with filth barred against its sides.

"Didn't you always want an RS3?" his Dad asked as he pointed a shaky finger towards the window.

Max huffed, "In that colour too," An inner outbreak of envy; it only bothered him because he knew who the red car belonged to, Charles, or one of his parents at least. Max hoped for the latter - it **had** to be the latter. Max was still driven around in a 6-year-old Clio, the thought of Charles owning a car when he couldn't even drive in Monaco yet, and an RS3 at that was... unthinkable. "Dad, my coat's not here!" He slammed his fists to his thighs. "I left it right here - did you move it?"

"I haven't touched it." said his Dad, still enthralled by the car outside.

  
Max perched his head over the headrest one last time, checking every corner of the backseats before facing the drenching truth. "It's not here, and it's like a hurricane out there, I'm gonna get soaked Dad," Max said, the rain now biting chunks out the roof of the car.

  
"You can't blame me for that, you should've made sure it was here before we left. I told you about the weather forecast."

  
"The forecasts are always wrong, Dad." Max dropped back into the seat.

  
"Obviously not cause it's raining right now. Anyway, it's only a few steps, and you'll be inside."

  
"Yeah, and I'll be soaking all day," Max stated as he thought of the embarrassment, the conference with Trevor, the press pictures, working in the factory later today. Drabs of irked hair that would stick out from the cap he threw on this morning, a face from fished from hell, the rain in his socks that just won't dry. Then Charles would be there. Dry, in his designer coat that cost more than Max's entire wardrobe, with that patronizing smile.

After some time, the drums against the car's roof had died down enough that he ventured out into the abyss; Jos lent Max his coat until they got inside, which gave a soak-free opportunity for Max to sneak into the factory. Everything seemed to be in place, everything as Max remembered, the same high ceiling; the same oak receptionist desk that looked right out of an Ikea; the same glass window to the right with the team's trophies decorated along a white wall, and then the same stairs going to the offices. The familiarity helped to soothe the sparking of nerves in his stomach ever so slightly. Slightly.

"Do you want me to come into the meeting with you?" his Dad offered, stood next to him, soaked.

"N-no, I want to do this alone, Dad," Max speedily explained while his fingers trembled at his side, 

"I've had plenty of briefings in my time-"

"I know, Dad, you've told me too many times... I really just want to do this by myself." Max clarified once more.

"Okay, Max. But I'll be here if you need me, okay?" Jos said before they arrived at the receptionist table. 

* * *

  
_'_ _I'm surprised you even got past karts_ '

Every time he sees Trevor's unlikeable face, that moment echoes around his head like a song on repeat. A constant cycle of self-doubt and anger filling him like stuffing, and Max, of course, liked to think he proved him wrong, that he proved all of his doubters wrong with his performances since. His boss hadn't said anything like it since, not to his face at least. But when someone you admire says something like that to you, it sticks with you like cancer, especially as a child. It rips your self-confidence and life apart piece by piece while you watch helplessly, everything around you burning in an unstoppable inferno, burning to a crisp. Until one day, it has nothing but you left to burn.

"You're late," Trevor, the team principal, grumbled, stood by the double door. Max clenched his eyes as he sat up. Only a few more months, Max thought. Only a few more months and he'll have the money to travel the world as he pleases; Max could visit the breathtaking beaches of the Mediterranean, all while driving for Red Bull... Or Toro Rosso, at least. Either way, it was Formula 1, and his Dad would finally be proud. He would have everything. 

But that dream is nothing but a fantasy. When Max opened his eyes again, instead of waves lapping over his toes, he was at the end of a glossy table, executives and staff dotted all around - all transfixed on him. He even recognised a few members of the board, papers aligned in front of them. But in the far corner, a single remnant of his vision was there, the shimmer of the sea, a pair of icy eyes, Charles' eyes, sparkling with the same blue and hazel he remembered so vividly, accented with tired bags of purple.   
"Sit down," Trevor said as he pushed Max towards a free chair. "Now we're all here, I would like to formally welcome Charles to the team, and I hope you love it here," If only Trevor cared how Max felt. "If you have any problems do let me know. I've also made a plan on making integration into the team and with Max as seamless as possible for you," Max rolled his eyes. "And I would like to talk to you and Max, about that, in private after, please." Being 'nice' in front of the board, typical Trevor. As soon as they were alone, he would start being an asshole again, Max thought.

A few minutes of meaningless business talk passed, and everyone left for opposites parts of the factory; however, Max was left in empty silence, fidgeting with his hands as the final chair scraped the floor, staring at a single ink-stained spot on the desk. "This isn't my first time dealing with an in-team rivalry like this," Trevor said suddenly. "It's not even close, so I'll make it clear before we have any problems, I've been in contact with your agents and have made some changes to your combined schedules for the next few weeks. I want you both to do it without question, and hopefully, it will get this problem done with because honestly, I don't have the time to deal with this," Trevor continued to which Max instantly groaned.

"No-" Max gulped. "I-I know there isn't much we can do but can't we just carry on as normal? Surely spending even more time than we need is just going to cause more problems."

  
"Oh, come on. We're adults now, Max. Just do what he says." Max's head darted straight to the voice. Charles' voice was much deeper, yet somehow softer - like the golden sand of the beach, he pictured. A silky grit. That wasn't the only thing he had noticed about Charles though, they were also the same height and the condescending smile was gone, replaced with an ever-present tired frown. The hair, though. The hair. It was worse than he or anyone could have ever imagined, like it hadn't seen the blade of a barber's scissors in years, falling right across his eyebrows. As if there wasn't enough to hate Charles for already, that hair was just another.

  
"I completely agree, Charles," Trevor said. Of course, he would agree with Charles, "I believe we're done, remember to go to the photoshoots later."

  
"Whatever you say," Max mumbled under his breath, his own chair now, scraped right across the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it, I'm seriously trying to get a good balance between the typical 'fic' tone and something more serious, and I'm struggling with it but I'm just gonna keep on trying, that's what a WIP is for I suppose.
> 
> Also, if you want, what do you think the weakest parts have been so far?  
> Leave a comment and let me know <3  
> And apologies for the typos (if there are any) I edited this chapter on my phone :D
> 
> I've now merged this with the next chapter and heavily edited it, I hope you like it <3


	3. Loved (Bridge/Limbo Chapter)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max goes through moments of perplexion with how weird Charles is acting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Helloooo everyone, this is a really short chapter, but after going back and editing all the chapters I couldn't put this into either the previous or next chapter without it causing tone problems and too many time skips in a short amount of time, it's kinda just in limbo, so I've just left it like this for now, sorry, but I hope you enjoy it regardless, it's quite a good one imo.
> 
> The first part's song is either: Marry The Night by Lady Gaga and/or Money Power Glory by Lana Del Rey - it's up to you which one you would prefer, or you can just listen to both it's up to you, but they are both bops :)

Trevor's plan turned out to be a lot more than just 'some' changes to the schedule. All in all, It took about 40 minutes for Trevor to go through the first steps and ideas - just for this week's alone: a supposed interview with Sky, somehow scheduled within a few hours notice; some party with the team tonight, that sounded more like an offsite business meeting; and a photoshoot for the team's social media, but at least the latter was to be expected, it's been a tradition for several years, and every team in the series seems to be doing it. But on top of that, this time, instead of doing these things with a friend that everyone loved and a teammate he's spent several seasons with, it was now someone he used to hate the guts off, someone with whom he has one of the most notorious rivalries in their respective semi-circles of motorsport.

Now though, was the first part of this plan, taking photos for the team's social media channels. And unfortunately for Max, that meant Charles was next to him, looking at him with a scowl identical to the one Trevor gave earlier. However, Max didn't really know why that was, it was Charles that said they were 'adults' now, and it was Charles that said they should try their best to get along, surely if he meant any of it, he wouldn't then be staring at him like a villain from a Stephen King novel. The sole reason he could already be mad was is if that was all just an act to look like the mature one in front of Trevor, and with knowing how Charles used to act, it probably was. "Why are you looking at me like that?" Max asked, with a furrow of his eyebrow. 

Charles didn't respond - he groaned at his question, turning his head away from Max and towards the photographer. "How much longer of this have we got?" 

"Not too long!" the photographer shouted from the other side of the room.

Well, that was Max's question answered. At least one thing hadn't changed about Charles then; still as manipulative as ever.

The next few hours passed surprisingly quick. The photoshoot had been... interesting - exactly what Max expected. Moments filled with awkward exchanges and that look that Charles' had on his face etched into his mind by the time they left. Max couldn't think of anything that could've annoyed him to this extent, nor did Charles do or say anything to Max that could explain why he was so pissed in the first place - and that was off. Very off. He was a bit like Max in that sense. If something was annoying him, Charles would gladly let people know about it, and Charles definitely should've at least said something by now. But, to be honest, Max didn't really care enough to spend longer than a few seconds to think about it. After all, he concluded earlier what Charles said in the meeting room had to be a lie anyway, so if he was still mad, or if Charles hated him as much as Max hated Charles, then it wasn't out of the question that he was just mad at him over some random thing Max couldn't even remember. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, I know I ask for this every time, but I would really love for one of you to comment and let me know if you're enjoying it and what you think it would really make my day at a time where I'm lacking motivation, and thanks again for reading, it means a lot and do let me know of any mistakes or areas of improvement <3


	4. Bonus Chapter: The Return to Racing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some introspection but some crazy foreshadowing as well ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Helloooo everyone, a bonus chapter today, I wrote this entire thing in the last few hours and wasn't expecting to finish it nor to get it as good as this. This is the shortest chapter I've posted so far for this fic, but a lot happens, and I really didn't want to leave the gap between updates any longer, so here we are, I hope you enjoy it, and I will be going through this chapter again tomorrow for edits <3  
> Edit: okay its not the shortest anymore lol
> 
> This chapter's song is actually up to you guys as I couldn't pick, I was thinking of something like The Outsider by Marina and the diamonds, or something along those lines

By the start of the season, things had settled. Max's attitude of tragedy and build-up of uneasiness, proven wrong by the days that came his way, concerns about Trevor seemed to be nothing but a pretence as the environment at the factory had turned from an anarchic typhoon to something at least semi-manageable, for now at least. It was only a matter of waiting before someone would stir the pot again; even the slightest of bad luck in Spa could be the end of this ceasefire and a return to the unprofessional mayhem nobody missed.

Nothing rivalled the first day as of yet. Max still thinks of it - thinking of why things happened the way they did - why Charles acted so weirdly - thinking why everyone was so off, but most importantly, why that changed the next day. How did a surreal feeling of being the outsider, someone people glared at and disregarded change so quickly? Crowds sharing chuckles, drivers sharing their ideas, friends sharing smiles the next day - how and why does it change? It was like the day prior never happened. But it had, Max had proof of it, Charles' look. It was still stained in his eyes despite the days past, he could still feel the gall glare staring into his heart, and the eyes of rime gutting him from behind everywhere he went. Those eyes. They trailed him like a ghost of the past. Looking in the mirror in his hotel room, he felt the ghost's eternal stare in his chest; cooking food with Mary over Skype, the feeling still there, in the bottom of his chest, and even trudging out of a taxi, arriving in Francorchamps after almost a month break of racing - still thinking of him.

Max tried walks at night to clear his mind; they used to work as a teen, but no, they didn't work, not this time. He considered extra exercise too. Max talked to his trainer about a new plan, still didn't work. He even tried watching everything on Netflix, still no. Nothing. Completely nothing, it was still there. Every moment the feeling was there, gripping onto him like quicksand. A fascination he had no choice in creating; a life he had no choice in living.

A life he had no choice in living.

"Hey, Max." a voice eagerly called out from somewhere in the crowd of busy people walking in and out of the restaurant of one of the only hotels at Spa. He scoured his eyes over the people in the room, looking for someone to put the voice too, yet his efforts were feeble. "Behind you," the wavering voice. Max shot his head behind him, seeing a faintly recognisable face standing to the side of the queue, staring straight at him with a bright smile. "It's been a long time,"

Max awkwardly mirrored his grin with a cringe. "I don't... I don't know how to say this, but I don't remember you."

"Oh- I'm Jason," _Jason_ said. "ART Jason," Max's smile collapsed onto the flaw in a crash at the statement; this wasn't the person he recognised from F4; this was almost a different person.

"ART Jason? You've... You've changed so much - I hardly recognise you," Max stumbled out, not having a clue what to say. He seemed genuinely nice, like really nice. Jason's smile, and the blonde hair, his casual black top that replaced the ART jersey Max was so used to seeing him in... He just seemed a complete stranger to the smug asshole Max remembered. It was almost otherworldly to him that he even shared the name with that he remembered.

"Yeah, a lot's happened since F4 - do you mind if I sit with you? I want to talk with you about something. If you want that is of-"

"No- no, that's fine. I'm fed up with eating alone anyway," Max chuckled. He felt inexplicably nervous, really nervous. But this was the guy everyone used to dislike, the guy everyone that would instantly lose his temper at the smallest of things. At least when Max got angry he had reasons for it, but this guy could've got triggered by just a hamster looking at him the wrong way. So why was there a voice in his head telling him to talk to him?

* * *

Max dropped his plate of pure pleasure on the table - deep-fried and salt decorated chips, with seasoned gammon being barraged off the edge by two fried eggs. "So what did you want to talk about?" Max said as he sat down.

"It's kinda complicated - I just want to- well, to say I'm sorry for how I acted back then in F4. I was young and going through... a tough time... and yeah, I guess that's it. I just wanted to apologise,"

"I assume that's not the only reason you're here, though," Max said, cutting into a slice of gammon.

"Oh god no," Jason laughed. "I'm here with Campos. They offered me a garage role which was pretty cool. I haven't been able to get much work since my Dad stopped funding,"

"W-what?" Max almost choked on his food. "Why on earth would he do that?"

"Oh, er- it's complicated. It's a... family thing," Jason stumbled, causing Max to raise his eyebrows.

"Okay... Well, I'm happy for your new thing at Campos I guess, and apology accepted," Max genuinely smiled at him. Max meant it, he did, he really did. "You've really changed - you're like a different person."

"Really? I'm really glad you think that." Jason reflected Max's smile right back at him in a... bubble kind of thing. That was the only way Max could describe it, a bubble that protected them from the disorderly mumbling of those around and the stares of those around them. It even protected Max from the ghost that tugged at his chest. "Max?" Jason murmured.

"Yeah?" 

"Are you... you know,"

"Am I... what?

"Never mind, don't worry about it," Jason quickly blurted. "I better go, Max, the team is waiting for me. It was nice seeing you, though. I'll see you on the grid again sometime?"

"Er- yeah... see you around," Max confusingly said, the abrupt end of their conversation taking him by surprise. But it was too late. When Max looked back up from his plate, there was nothing but a silhouette. The bubble breaking as the shadow faded, disorder returning around him, people chatting and shouting all around him again, but there was only one thing he noticed - the feeling. It was back. Max wasn't protected anymore. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it. I know it's a little rough around the edges but I hope to come back to it :)
> 
> This chapter's now been changed, and it's so much better, it's still due a proofread but I hope you like the changes regardless <3 Can I also just say, writing dialogue and dialogue tags is such a pain in the ass, it is legit one of the things I hate most about writing AHHHH


	5. Spa: The First of Many (Part 1 Of 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What you've all been waiting for, well, the start of it.
> 
> (Part 1 of 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone <3 Here's a new chapter, yeah, I know. I was shocked myself, it's not like me at all but here we are. I like what I've got with this chapter a lot and as a disclaimer, if you haven't read the new version of the previous chapter, then you may want to do that, it's been massively changed. But anyways enjoy :)

What did he mean? As if he didn't already have enough to think about, he had this too. Jason, what did he mean? What did he want to ask? What _did_ he ask? Was it really something obvious? Should Max know?

There was a lot on his mind to say the least. Tomorrow was his first feature race in months after a not so good qualifying, and then he had the sprint race, and then the post-race interviews, and then there was the F1 race he was going to watch, and then finally travelling back to Britain. Quite a lot. Although it could be worse, Max could be- he could be- he could- actually, no, it couldn't be worse given the circumstances. He drew the short straw, and he was paying the price, but paying the price for what?

"Are you all prepared for the feature race?" said Trevor; while he bent down to inspect the suspension of the car.

"We got some quality data in the practice session," An engineer replied from behind the computer screens. "We should be in for a good result tomorrow!"

"That's great, Jeff," Trevor said before he turned to Max. He scowled at him, a look of disgust. Trevor was perfectly aware that Jos wasn't here for this race, and he was making all the subtle micro-aggressions he could get away with, "How about you, Max? Charles told me he is confident about pulling off a podium tomorrow."

He sighed, another micro-aggression. It isn't for long _,_ he told himself. "Everything looks great!" He forced a lively smile. It's not for long. Just play along. "If everything goes well I think we could get a win."

"That might be a little optimistic for you, but I'm glad to hear it," Trevor said.

**'For you'**

"If nothing goes wrong, I can do it, Trevor. I can." Max said, leaning against the concrete, orange painted pillar.

"I never said you couldn't." Trevor awkwardly chuckled as a few more engineers came into the garage. "P6 to P1 in a feature is just a little optimistic."

"You said Charles was confident about a podium? Well, if Charles is confident of a podium, I can get the win." Max shrugged his shoulders, thinking what he said was possible. It wasn't.

"Charles is confident about what?" a voice from outside the garage said. "I didn't say anything about a podium."

Max couldn't help his snicker when he looked to his side, Trevor was frantically struggling for an excuse and it was a sight to behold. "Er- well, I was saying to- saying to Max how you are optimistic for a good result on your debut."

"I am, but not a podium," Charles cackled. "I'm starting from 8th, that would be a miracle for my first race."

"Well..." Trevor stumbled over his words as he tried to explain himself. Max was certainly enjoying this. It almost made all of the crap worth it to see this look on his red face. "I've got a meeting with the marshals in five. Just make sure everything is ready for tomorrow."

Trevor shuffled out of the room about as quickly as the old-man could, squirming in his exposed spot under the driver's spotlight. If only Charles knew what he had exposed himself too. "What was that about?" Charles asked him, standing awfully close to his spot against the pillar. Too close.

"Just Trevor being Trevor. He's always been like that to me," said Max, looking to the right, towards the Monegasque.

"What do you mean?" Charles asked, his face shining with the warm light emanating from outside.

"He's erm- always hated me, I don't really know why," Max hesitantly said. "Even when I first met him years ago. I was just a kid, and he was already on my ass,"

"Okay - I'm confused then - if he never liked you, why would he bring you into his own team?"

"I'm part of the Red Bull Academy, Charles. Money talks," Max said as if it was obvious. "Nobody else had a seat to offer, and they paid him- I don't need to explain, you know how it works,"

"Yeah, kinda," Charles awkwardly smiled to Max, putting a hand over his eye to protect himself from the rays. "So he just lies like that to piss you off despite being paid by Red Bull to have you?"

"Pretty much." Max lamented.

"That is messed up,"

"I know, but there's nothing I can do, I just have to hope for a promotion." Max covered his own eyes now, the light reaching him.

"Yeah, but that's not fair, Max," Charles said. "If he's done it to you, God knows who else he has over the years."

"That's- yeah, I guess. That's true,"

"I know," Charles firmly said, gazing away from Max and towards the track. "That's why I said it."

"Hmm, do you know how long are you going to be here for?" Max asked, using this moment of peace between them to try and get a better grasp on this whole driver situation.

"What?? Do you not want me here?" Charles snarkily replied his attention back on Max.

"No, Charles. I'll be honest with you, no," said Max.

"Pfft, looks like someone's still not over the karting championship," Charles smirked, trying to be funny. But Max stared at him with dead eyes and an unmoving grimace. "Oh, you really aren't."

"That's just one of the reasons why I think you're a prick," Max mumbled inaudibly under his breath.

"What did you say?" Charles raised his eyebrow.

"I said, can you just tell me when you're leaving?"

"The end of the season," Oh, thank god. Max didn't have to wo- "Is what we originally decided."

"What?" Max mouthed: breathless. 

"I'm joking, don't worry," Charles laughed at him again. "I'll be gone when Isak is back. You should've seen your face though. I haven't seen that look since the world championship,"

"Can you please stop bringing that up?" Max begged with the most pleading look he could muster.

"No, I won't,"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's the end of part 1, I hope you liked it <3


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